


Late-Night Breakfast

by GypsyJr (HippieGeekGirl)



Category: Paul (2011)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-25
Updated: 2011-04-25
Packaged: 2017-10-18 15:49:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/190495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HippieGeekGirl/pseuds/GypsyJr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The hardest thing about epic adventures is figuring out what to do when they're over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late-Night Breakfast

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Missy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy) and [anemptymargin](http://archiveofourown.org/users/anemptymargin) for the readthroughs, encouragement and general awesomeness. :)

“That was good, wasn't it?”

As the lights faded, there were general murmurs that yes, yes it had been. Clive turned to Agent Zoil, who was still looking slightly wistful as he finished debriefing the rather confused commando squad.

“So now what?”

Now it was Zoil's turn to look confused. That plus the lack of shades made him look about two-thirds less intimidating. “What do you mean?”

“Don't you have to scan our brains or wipe our memories or something?”

He seemed to consider this.

“No, I don't think so.” Holstering his gun, he started heading for the road. “I am hungry, though. Anyone else want breakfast?”

Graeme, who was still holding onto Ruth, nodded. “That sounds pretty good, actually.”

“What, now? It's two o'clock in the morning!”

“Right,” Zoil agreed amiably. “And in about twenty minutes a bunch of guys in black suits are going to show up and want to know what the hell happened here. I'd suggest we not be around when they get here.”  
_

It took them a good hour's drive to find an all-night truck stop. They chatted quietly as they waited for the bored-looking waitress to return with their orders. It was so quiet, in fact, that it took Clive awhile to notice that Graeme had fallen asleep on his shoulder.

 _Coming back from the dead must really take it out of you_ , he thought with a frown.

“Hey, Eggy.” He nudged him gently. “Breakfast.” “

“'M 'wake.” Graeme mumbled into Clive's shirt and yawned as the waitress set down plates of pancakes and glasses of juice. Ruth reached across the table and took his hand.

“So I guess you guys are going home soon, huh?”

“Guess so,” Graeme agreed, finally coherent enough to start tucking into his food. “I can't even remember what day it is.”

“Excuse me.” Clive pushed his plate away, shrugging away from Graeme, who was still leaning on him. “I need to... go.”  
__

Ten minutes later he was outside, leaning on Zoil's shiny black sedan and looking at the sky. With no lights to spoil the view, there were more stars visible than he'd ever seen before.

“Alright, Sausage?”

Clive jumped as Graeme wandered up beside him. “God, don't sneak up on me like that.”

“Sorry. Are you alright, though? You've been gone a while.”

“I'm fine.”

“I know you better than that. C'mon, you can tell me.”

“Beautiful night, isn't it?”

“Stop changing the subject.”

Clive shook his head, fists clenching. “Can't you just let it go?”

“Nope. Not after-”

“You _died_.” Graeme took an involuntary step back at the force of his friend's words. “You got shot and you died and I held your hand and watched it happen!”

“Oh.” Graeme exhaled a breath he hasn't even realized he was holding. “Is that all?”

“What!?”

“I came back, didn't I?”

“And what if you hadn't? You know that was really dangerous for him. You could have both died!”

“Yeah...” He took Clive's hand, pulling him into a tight hug. “But we _didn't_.”

He felt the other man's breath hitch, and shook his head. “Oh, don't. If you start, you'll get me going.”

“You fell asleep on me,” Clive whispered, feeling a bit silly about the whole thing. “I got... worried.”

Graeme let out a shaky laugh against his collarbone. “I fell asleep because it's _three in the morning_. It's just the adrenaline wearing off. Everything's fine.”

“Yeah. Just... don't leave me, okay?”

“Never.” With one last quick squeeze, he turned and started pulling Clive back to the restaurant. “The pancakes are getting cold.”  
__

Ruth was alone with her orange juice when they returned. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” Clive nodded as he slid into the booth in front of his still-untouched breakfast. “Where's Agent Z... Lorenzo?”

“Outside. He said he had some phone calls to make.”

“Yeah, I'd imagine. Must be a lot of work planning a cover-up.”

She set her glass down. “So where _do_ we go from here?”

Graeme reached over and snatched an unattended piece of bacon from her plate. “Anywhere we want.”


End file.
